


What if..?

by Im_A_Terrible_Person



Series: Requests :) [6]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Bathing/Washing, Bittersweet, Bittersweet Ending, Bottom Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Cuddling & Snuggling, Degradation, Dom/sub, Emotional Manipulation, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Inspirational Speeches, Light Angst, M/M, Manipulation, Praise Kink, Prostate Massage, Prostate Milking, Role Reversal, Smut, Speeches, Top Alexis | Quackity, Unhealthy Relationships, sorta - Freeform, this is extremely unhealthy, yep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:54:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29891094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Im_A_Terrible_Person/pseuds/Im_A_Terrible_Person
Summary: Quackity's the puppeteer, Schlatt's his perfect puppet.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity/Jschlatt
Series: Requests :) [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2193852
Comments: 9
Kudos: 158





	What if..?

**Author's Note:**

> For DreamXD <3
> 
> By the way, I really love this idea cuz it fits so well with what I've heard from the DreamSMP. Like, when Quackity leaves he tries to sink into his dictator persona to get him back, smoking and drinking more and more because Quackity always praised him for it while he was there. Signing whatever horrible thing is put in front of him because it's all he did, getting angry and closed of from even those closest to him because he misses Quackity.
> 
> Quackity still loves him, but he leaves because he's willing to sacrifice Schlatt's happiness to get ahead in life, maybe he continues manipulating people in his new group. He misses Schlatt, but he sees it as a necessary evil to cut ties with him, so he could save his own skin. He watches Schlatt self-destruct, he feels really bad about it but he lets it happen cuz it's the best thing for him if he just lets Schlatt destroy himself.

Quackity’s so proud of Schlatt, doing this for him. Schlatt projected an aura of fear and intimidation through his words. He admired the fear in people’s eyes as they looked on. There was pity there, too. Not directed at Schlatt, at him. They think he’s a gullible idiot, Schlatt using him as a political tool, somebody he could dupe into pooling votes with. Quackity hates it when people assume he’s just a moron. Some dumb bitch Schlatt cajoled into entering politics. He knows he doesn’t look like a politician, his suit is unkempt and beanie ever-present.

They were wrong anyway. He’d practically had to bribe Schlatt to do this, had spent many hours writing his speeches and coaching him on how to deliver them. He’d had to fuck Schlatt practically brainless to get him to agree to be the figurehead of their campaign, to sit there and look scary (He’s not scary, Quackity can see the nervousness in his eyes. It’s so cute.).

Schlatt holds the power of the campaign in name only, Quackity’s the one pulling strings. He’s the one who reads through contracts, he’s the one who approves bills, he’s the one behind every little thing that happens under Schlatt’s rule. Schlatt just slaps his name on it because Schlatt’s brand is intimidating businessman (He’s not so intimidating when he’s sat under his own desk, mouth full of Quackity’s cock.).

Quackity doesn’t have that aura. He’s short, so much shorter than Schlatt. He’s not muscular, and even if he tried wearing shoulder pads like Schlatt, nobody would believe it’s real. Schlatt has the benefit of being one of the tallest people on this server, barring giants like Bad and Technoblade. And Wilbur, who’s only a couple of inches taller than Schlatt. Quackity was short and slim, almost effeminate. Not exactly what you think of when you hear the word ‘president’.

“Thank you!” Schlatt said, voice booming.

The sound of clapping brought Quackity back to reality. He quickly joined in, a small sense of pride filling him. Though Schlatt was the one saying them, they were his words. The people liked him, though they didn’t know it. Schlatt turned to him, looking stoic as always. Quackity had to bite back a smirk. He could see the neediness there, the way his eyes sought Quackity’s approval.

Schlatt stepped towards him. His gait is slow, purposeful. Deliberate. Quackity can scarcely remember the time they’ve spent here, practicing everything, revising every little word, movement, detail, even down to the color of Schlatt’s socks (They were red, like his tie, a dark red that looked like blood.) He lets Schlatt lead him off stage, perfectly in sync. 

The second they’re out of sight, Schlatt drops the act. His shoulders relax, he stops looming. His expression is soft, open. It’s sweet, if he thought about it, that Schlatt put himself through this to please him. Quackity digs a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, passing one to Schlatt. It’s keeping up the effect. When there’s a cloud of smoke around him, his eyes are striking, dangerous. Gives him an air of mystery.

“Here,” Quackity said. 

He lights it for him, watches Schlatt half-heartedly take a drag. He knows Schlatt doesn’t enjoy smoking, hates the taste of it and the way it burned his throat. They need to get him used to it, though, so he doesn’t cough and sputter when they do this in public. Quackity feels guilty for it, spent hundreds giving Schlatt throat lozenges and gum to make it more bearable.

Can’t be helped, though. They need this, the money, the power, the fame. It pays the bills, helped them pay back Schlatt’s debts. If that means Schlatt has to pick up a few vices, Quackity’s fine with that. He’ll make it up to him, fuck Schlatt nice and slow until he can’t even remember why he was upset in the first place.

“Here,” Schlatt murmured, jolting Quackity out of his thoughts.

Schlatt hands him the remains of the cigarette. Quackity has a little box, a nice blue china thing, that he keeps them in. Littering would reflect badly on them. Quackity takes the lead this time, Schlatt trailing behind him like a lost puppy all the way to the White House. The minute the door closes behind them, Quackity’s on him. He yanks on Schlatt’s tie, forcing him to stoop down. Quackity licks his way into Schlatt’s mouth, movements angry and desperate. He wants some respect.

Schlatt lets him, kisses him back, so sweet. Quackity swirls his tongue around Schlatt’s, bites down harshly on Schlatt’s bottom lip just to hear him whine. Quackity doesn’t even have to look, they’ve done this so many times, as he leads Schlatt into his office. It’s really Quackity’s, he’s the one who does the work in here. Schlatt’s usually with him, but he’s certainly not getting any work done.

Quackity pushes him back onto the desk, not caring as a stack of papers falls to the ground with a loud thump. Schlatt goes quietly, excited for what’s coming. His reward for being such a good little president. Quackity pulls back, ignoring Schlatt’s desperate whimper as he reaches for the lube he kept in the bottom right drawer. It’s brand new, Quackity having replaced it this morning. He sets it down, a little ways away from Schlatt, in favor of unbuttoning his suit.

He carefully removes Schlatt’s jacket. It’s expensive, they can’t afford to ruin it. Quackity does the same with the rest of Schlatt’s clothes, leaving him exposed so he can hang them up over the door. He returns, presses a comforting kiss against Schlatt’s forehead before pulling back. Quackity moves Schlatt, so he’s lying on his front, bent over the desk. He looks so good, all subtle curves and smooth skin. 

Quackity strips himself quickly, not nearly as caring as he had been with Schlatt’s suit. His is easily replaceable, and whether or not he looks good doesn’t matter as much as it does with Schlatt. He could probably just show up in a t-shirt and sweats, and nobody would bat an eye. Of course, him wearing a suit works in his favor. Gives him sympathy. He knows there are a few people who voted just so he wouldn’t feel Schlatt’s ‘wrath’.

The thought makes him snicker. He carefully lubes up his fingers. He doesn’t want to hurt Schlatt, this is supposed to feel like heaven to him. Something for him to look forward to, to give him the strength he needs to keep up the facade. He strokes over Schlatt’s tail, his touch as light as a feather. It twitches like crazy; the sight makes Quackity’s heart melt.

Schlatt keens when he finally pushes the first finger in, wriggling against Schlatt’s walls. He’s always so tight when they do this, so needy for Quackity’s cock. He slips in a second, spreading them so he can hear Schlatt gasp, moan out when he presses in a third. Quackity feels around for a moment, he knows that Schlatt’s prostate was around… there!

Schlatt wailed, back arching. His hips rolled back into Quackity, silently begging for more. Quackity does, massages over Schlatt’s prostate until he’s shaking and twitching, rapturous cries echoing throughout the house. He doesn’t touch Schlatt’s cock, not yet. For now, he’s content to fingerfuck him until he’s sobbing. Quackity grabs his hip, forcing Schlatt to arch his back so he can angle into his prostate easier. His wrist is hurting. 

-

Schlatt’s crying, tears running down his face and pooling on the dark oak wood of ‘his’ desk. His knees are so weak, he feels like his brain is short circuiting. Quackity’s fingers jab into his prostate, merciless. He can’t even think, can’t form words with the electric feeling washing over him. 

Quackity pulls out his fingers, hand on his hip tightening, keeping him in place when he tries to chase them, to keep them inside. His hole flutters, clenching around that horrible emptiness. He whines, high and soft, but he stays still. Schlatt’s a good boy, so good for Quackity. He can take it, though he hates the wait for Quackity to slick himself up.

When he finally feels Quackity again, he’s tugging Schlatt up by the horns, hand lining up his cock with Schlatt’s hole. Once the tip of his cock pops past the first ring of muscle, he grabs Schlatt’s horns with both hands, using them as leverage as he slams home, setting a punishing pace that has Schlatt screaming. 

There’s one physical attribute Quackity has over him, one thing that he could say was better about him. He had the bigger dick. It doesn’t sound like much, no, but it means so much to Schlatt. He’s not small, a perfectly respectable 6 inches, but Quackity’s some freak of nature. His cock is ten, and Schlatt’s never believed in God, but sometimes he thanked him for this. It’s so nice and thick, too, fills him up so perfectly that his stomach bulges around it, a sensitive red bump that was sensitive for days after.

“Move, please, sir, please, I need it, please-,” Schlatt’s voice breaks, pathetic pleading cut off when Quackity speaks.

“Shut up.” He pulls out, snaps his hips forward again. Schlatt swears his very soul trembles, the slide of Quackity’s cock across his prostate makes him melt. His knees buckle, forcing him to put his entire weight on the desk. It forces his stomach to flatten, making Quackity feel so much bigger, so much more inside him. Quackity groans at the sudden increase of tightness, releasing Schlatt’s horns in favor of his hips, bringing Schlatt against him every time he fucks back in.

“You’re such a slut for me, aren’t you? You dumb whore, you’re gagging for it, aren’t you? Just a cockslut, you’d do anything to have my cock, to have me fuck you.” Quackity purred. The words are saccharine, so sweet but venomous at the same time. 

“Such a good slut, taking me so well. You’re so wet, too, so tight for me. My good little whore.” 

Schlatt howls, the words punctuated by powerful thrusts, rattling him to his very core. He pants out into the empty air of his office, crying out as Quackity shifts just a little, just slightly, so the tip of his cock scrapes so perfectly across his prostate. Schlatt can’t think straight, can’t speak, can barely move. He goes limp, body twitching and shuddering as Quackity absolutely destroys him. 

“Right there, right there, fuck, Quackity, I-I need, I need-” He begs, hands scrabbling pathetically against the desk, trying to roll his hips back into Quackity, greedy for more of his cock inside him. Schlatt needs it, needs to be filled until he bursts, until all he can feel is the drag of Quackity’s cock inside of him, the surges of pleasure that make his eyes roll back in his head. 

Quackity digs his nails into Schlatt’s hips, the pain making the sensation of his cock so much sweeter. Schlatt’s tail wags, tickling his stomach every time he pushes in. It teases Schlatt, he’s so sensitive there, but Quackity never does more than tease him with it. He could get off with stimulation from his tail all on its own, he’s sure, but they’ve never tried. 

He feels as though every moan is punched out of him, every wail feels so loud to him. Schlatt’s mind is hazy with arousal, eyes closing as he weakly tries to get Quackity impossibly deeper, feeling almost as if he’s being impaled, then left horribly empty whenever Quackity pulls out. Quackity murmurs more praise, more backhanded compliments to him that make Schlatt feel so dirty, depraved, but so euphoric.

He’s dizzy, almost feels like he’s going to burst into flames, he’s so hot. Quackity takes one hand off his hips, just teases over his tail with a finger, but that’s all it takes for Schlatt to come undone. He came all over ‘his’ desk, can’t even make a noise as he spasms and jerks in Quackity’s hold, feeling like the world has just toppled under the force of this moment, he tightens around Quackity’s cock with a groan, suddenly everything hurts so so good, so bad. 

“Quack-Quackity, please, fill me, I’m good, I’ve been so good, I need it, I deserve it, please, please, Quackity-,” He forces himself to clench down, hole spasming with the effort of resisting the urge to move away, it’s too much, please. Quackity came inside him, grunting at how tight Schlatt’s become. He pulls out almost immediately, ignoring Schlatt’s groan of discomfort. Cum drips down his thighs, the sticky feeling making Schlatt’s cock twitch, though he just can’t get hard again right now.

-

Quackity helps Schlatt up, half-carries him to the adjoining bathroom, installed for just such events. He fills the tub up with near-boiling water, strokes a hand through Schlatt’s hair. Quackity’s careful to avoid Schlatt’s horns, knowing it’d be too overwhelming, and that Schlatt isn’t in the mood for overstimulation. Schlatt’s eyes are misty, unfocused as he watches Quackity.

“So good for me, baby.” He breathes, easing Schlatt into the now-full bathtub. Schlatt sighs, relaxing against the tile. Quackity will shower later, for now he grabs a loofa, squirts a small amount of sweet-scented body wash onto the loofa. He grabs a shin, lifting Schlatt’s leg out of the water so he can clean it. He works mostly in silence, occasionally telling Schlatt he’s been such a good boy, so good for him, he just needs to relax for him now, let Quackity take care of everything. 

Once Schlatt is all clean, he grabs the shampoo, guides Schlatt to lean on his shoulder so he can get at his tail. He whimpers, sensitive. Quackity soothes him with a kiss to his shoulder, washing it out as fast as he can. He pours out some more shampoo, massages it into Schlatt’s hair, listening to his soft little hums. There’s a special horn cleaner he uses, but Quackity leaves that for later. He puts his robe on, a pale yellow one that’s just a tad long on him.

He drains the tub, leaving for a moment to fetch a towel and a robe. He’s got some work to do, and he’ll need Schlatt to sign some things for him. Quackity towels Schlatt off, careful of the scratches on his hips, helps him stand up so he can pull the robe over his shoulder’s. It’s a soft baby blue one, one he’d gotten for just this. Schlatt looks so cute in it, sleepy and soft. 

Quackity leads Schlatt back into the office, using the towel to wipe the come off of the desk. He puts the lube away, sits back down. He eases Schlatt down onto his lap, lets him lean back against him. It’s awkward, what with Schlatt’s height, but he can hook his chin over Schlatt’s shoulder to see the documents.

He works in silence, occasionally pressing a kiss to Schlatt’s neck, petting a hand through his hair. Quackity wakes him up every so often, makes him sign a contract here and a bill there. Schlatt’s quiet, occasionally whining for Quackity’s attention. He always gives it, strokes Schlatt’s arm, hugs him a little, straining so he can kiss Schlatt’s cheek.

It’s hours until he finishes, Schlatt’s almost asleep by now. He almost regrets standing them up when Schlatt sways on his feet, looking like he’s about to fall over. Quackity’s heart melts at how needy Schlatt is like this, how grabby he is, head buried in Quackity’s neck like he’s trying to hide from the world. 

He leads Schlatt upstairs, tucks him into bed while he goes and showers. When he returns, Schlatt’s asleep, snoring quietly and drooling onto his silk pillowcases. Quackity slides into bed next to him, wraps his arm around Schlatt’s waist and tangling their legs together. He closes his eyes, satisfied enough to fall asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I just realized I've written ten fics over the last 4 days. Why can't I have this motivation when I try to do school stuff :(


End file.
